


a reasonable man

by CagedSphinx



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CagedSphinx/pseuds/CagedSphinx
Summary: a conversation between the king and his gardener, before they became family.





	a reasonable man

it’s a bit over a week after his coronation that the king sends for you. it’s not normal for him, antisocial as he is; his brother the prince tends to handle most of the meetings, a more pleasant filter for the king’s often...unusual behavior. you wonder what it is he could possibly want from a peasant like you, even with your position in the city restoration committee.   
    
he's a frantic sort of man, never seeming to stop even when he's not pacing, which he has been since you entered the office. you're surprised he hasn't worn a hole in the carpets, even with the charms woven into them. you stand politely out of the way, a little bit fascinated by the manic energy he's giving off despite the freezing air.   
    
“how many rosebushes are in the gardens?” he asks, not looking up, and you know him at least well enough now to know when you're being addressed.   
    
“too many to count, your majesty. there are the inner gardens, the borders, the apothecary--”   
    
“burn them all.”   
    
you blink, your thought cut short, your blood chilling as much as the room. surely he couldn't be serious, but you've yet to hear him give an order he wasn't serious about. it takes you a moment to choke out, “...sir?”   
    
he stops. you watch the gears turn, like any others in the castle, and watch the human in him seep back in as he runs a hand through his hair, his breath steaming as he releases it. “...that's...unreasonable, isn't it.”   
    
you try to remember that he respects you, that he's asking you. you try not to think of his mad laughter at the presentation of the old king's will. “...yes, sir.”   
    
“...forgive me.” he rubs his eyes as if to chase some memory out of them, and your heart breaks for what must have ruined something as harmless and beautiful as roses for him, watching him start pacing again as if someone had turned a key in his back. “let's try this, instead. any decorative bushes are to be uprooted and replanted as far downwind of the castle as possible. private and medicinal gardens can be left alone, as long as the flowers are harvested as soon as possible. remove or cover any non-living decorations.”   
    
“your majesty.” your tone is firm, solid as the earth you tend. “do you have any idea how much work that’s going to be?”   
    
“a great amount, certainly. keep records; i’ll make sure those that contribute to the effort are generously compensated. there’s more than enough in the coffers to cover it without interrupting current repairs.” it doesn’t stop him, as if he doesn’t hear the absurdity of the demand he’s making at all.   
    
“can you at least explain why?” it’s hard not to be exasperated, at least until he goes still, turns those eyes of his on you. it’s uncomfortable, having his full attention, but you stand firm. you wonder if that’s why he values your input.   
    
you watch him watch you, pick you apart as if hunting for an excuse to tell you no, see him soften just a little the way he only seems to do around his brothers. something about having that trust hurts, knowing how rarely it’s given, but he’s a man before he’s a king, and you won’t betray the man. he glances away briefly, although at least he doesn’t start abusing the carpet again.   
    
“i can’t work around them,” he finally says, more and more haunted as he continues. “i may have inherited it by chance, but this position i hold is a job like any other, and i fully intend to treat it as such. more people are relying on my ability to make decisions than have ever done so before in my life, and they deserve my best. whether i like it or not, whether it makes sense or not, i cannot give it anywhere near roses. not their scent, not their image, not even the thought i could round a corner and encounter them.”   
    
no king, but a person in pain, looks up at you, his intensity muted somewhat by it. “i know that it’s ridiculous. i do. but please, my lady, see this done, or i fear i’ll go every bit as mad as the lot of you think i am already.”   
    
it’s your turn to study him, although he’s painfully easy to read, at least to you. you cannot at all believe you hear yourself agree to his request, but you do, at least fairly sure that whatever you need for this side project he’ll give as freely as he’s given everything else. for all his eccentricity, he’s been nothing but generous, ruling with a fair hand and a mind for the city’s most vulnerable. most of the time it’s you and the committee telling him what needs doing; moving some flowers isn’t so much to ask in exchange.   
    
the relief in his face will follow you for a long time, though, you think as you part ways with him for that day. it shadows you as the orders are given, as the arguments are made against it, and it steels you as much as it gnaws at you. he told you why, surely, but he didn’t tell you _why._   
    
in the end, as you look at the once empty valley now full of fragrance and color and beauty, the castle town barely a speck in the distance, you don’t think you want to know.


End file.
